Frustration is waking up early on Saturday and heading to town to buy a rabies vaccine for your domestic canine. You're outside the shop by 8am wondering how long they'll take to open their doors,since you're also trying to duck paying for parking. In the ensuing anxiety, the period between 8 and 8.20am, when the doors finally open, feels like eternity. Your eyes dart back and forth looking out for those yellow overcoats while silently cursing the shop assistants for not opening soon enough.
Finally it's open! You dash in, make your order, pay, get the weakened pathogens packed nicely and rush out. Lady luck smiled today and kept the clamper away.
You dash home, retrieve a syringe, coax the canine with some eatables as you rub it's back while inspecting a nice sinewy muscle where the syringe will dig in. Satisfied, you go all in for the injection.
That's when it all goes awry. The little cowardly bitch whimpers, jumps and turns as if to bite,then twists and disengages the needle before you have time to push in all the contents. And you're left there wondering if half a vaccine is good enough or you have to begin the process all over again
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